


Emergency Reunion

by bonesofether



Series: MercyKill Week 2018 [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, mercykill - Freeform, otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 07:56:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonesofether/pseuds/bonesofether
Summary: Stranded and badly injured, Reaper seeks out the one person he can still trust.





	Emergency Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution for the second prompt of a MercyKill Week Prompt List.  
> The theme was "reunion".

Pain was a funny thing.

Just when you thought that you could tolerate your limit, something new came along and proved you wrong.

That was the state that Reaper currently found himself in. Gripping tightly at the nearest wall to steady himself, he focused on evening out his rapid, shallow breathing. All the while, he was mentally kicking himself for having gotten arrogant. He’d underestimated how much time and effort Talon’s enemies had put in with the intent of stopping specifically him. A grim part of Reaper would have been flattered by the attention. ...if said attention hadn’t involved stopping his cells from being able to recover after decaying.

Now he found himself in near blinding agony, barely standing and hanging onto his focus by a few threads of stubborn will. Of course, it hadn’t helped things that as soon as the toxin had flooded his system, Reaper had been fired upon. A few of the bullets had found their mark, but, fortunately, not hit anything vital.

Finally, as if to add insult to injury, Reaper could still see the... _look_ that Ana had given him once he’d realized he’d been initially hit with a Biotic syringe round. Of course it had been her to pull the trigger. Reaper doubted that anyone else could have made the shot.

But that _look_. A look of both pity and revulsion from someone he’d worked alongside for years. It was infuriating enough that Reaper found the strength to keep moving forward. His footfalls were heavy, but deliberate. Each one seemed to aggravate his wounds, but stopping simply wasn’t an option.

As it was right now, Reaper wasn’t sure what he was going to, but he could hear sounds of a nearby encampment. There was no missing the low, rumbling sound of power generators. And as he got closer, though wisely stuck to the shadows, Reaper could hear the occasional vehicle start up. If he could access their medical supplies, the Reaper could tend to his injuries. If he was lucky, there would be something to counteract the toxin, too.

Then a new sound began to rise up through the general background noise. It was...music?

That made Reaper pause for a moment. He tried to ease his breathing so that he could hear the song a little more clearly. Eyes narrowing behind his mask in concentration, Reaper tilted his head to listen. It only took a few moments for him to recognize the melody.

Part of him wished he didn’t.

Angela had always listened to music when she was working on something particularly difficult. Her musical preferences varied, but there was one detail that never changed. The slower the tempo, the more difficult the research. And judging by the song, her current research was only mildly taxing.

For a long moment, Reaper stood there in the shadows, one hand gripping at the nearest rock wall and the other clutching at a bullet wound to his side. As his cells’ regenerative process was pretty stalled, the blood continued to ooze through his fingers. He could feel blood dribbling from the other four, only barely slowed by his clothes. Despite all that, his focus was on the quiet song...and the woman who was undoubtedly listening to it.

A sharp twinge of pain snapped Reaper out of his thoughts and he was forced to consider his options. He could try to sneak into the encampment to _creatively procure_ some of the medical supplies. Given the state he was in, and the fact that he was weaponless, that was a fairly risky endeavor. Or he could try his luck on a different approach...and ask Angela for help.

Neither had a guaranteed outcome, but, after a bit more deliberation, Reaper decided he’d rather take his chances with the good Doctor Ziegler. He had no idea how she would react to seeing him. They hadn’t spoken since the fall of Overwatch. For all he could surmise, Angela only knew him as the Talon operative he’d become. She was just as liable to shoot him as she was to save him.

With a low groan, Reaper continued limping towards the encampment. Well, if he was going to die, he’d prefer it to be at the hands of someone he knew. Not some nameless soldier looking for fifteen minutes of glory and a promotion.

 

* * *

 

Sighing and blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face, Angela stared at the computer screen with a bored expression. No matter how many times she rewrote the paragraph, it didn’t seem to make sense. And if it didn’t make sense to her, she could only imagine how an editor would react. One quick glance and then a fast trip to oblivion via a click of the Delete button; that’d be the fate of her latest dissertation.

Grumbling under her breath, cursing the fact that she still had to do these dissertations to ensure funding, Angela rose from her seat and walked around the small medbay she had been housed in. She supposed she should count herself lucky as she was in one of the few buildings that didn’t have canvas walls. It had four medical beds, and a fifth that she used as her own, personal bed. Aside from that, the rest of the medbay was fairly utilitarian she hadn’t seen the need to bring along many personal belongings.

Looking over at the small music player window on the computer screen, Angela turned up the volume and headed for the medbay door. She needed some fresh air after hours of staring at a computer screen. That and her back had more than a couple of sore spots.

The door opened with a creak and Angela was a little surprised to see how dark it was. She knew that they had needed to set up camp away from the small town that was being monitored, but she hadn’t expected it to be this far away. The small lights on either side of the medbay door provided minimal light, and only helped to ensure she didn’t trip over a stray rock.

Taking in a deep breath and stretching her arms upwards, Angela closed her eyes for the moment. The air was cool, but not too cold, and there was just enough of a breeze to keep the air from being stagnant. She rubbed the back of her neck and yawned, mentally promising herself that if she could just get to the end of the next page on her dissertation, she’d get some sleep.

Turning her gaze upwards, Angela stared at the stars that dotted the dark sky. The moon was barely a sliver, and there were some stars that seemed brighter than it. She hummed along with the chorus of the song that she could hear wafting through the open door of the medbay. Silently, she wondered if there was anybody else looking up at the same stars she was seeing.

A hand suddenly clamped down over her mouth and Angela was yanked back. The force was enough she was thrown off balance, and she would have fallen had she not been roughly pulled against someone. An arm wrapped around her midsection, tight enough she briefly felt her ribs creak, and Angela instinctively made a muffled cry.

“Don’t...scream.”

Despite her current situation, shock silenced Angela and her eyes widened. She knew that voice. She’d know that voice anywhere, and would likely never forget it.

It was Gabriel. Gabriel Reyes. Though now he was better known as Reaper.

Her shock was immediately replaced by a bitter feeling of resentment, and Angela tried to wriggle free. Reaper grunted with the effort of maintaining his hold on her, though he seemed reluctant to tighten his grip. She should have known that Talon would have been cruel enough to have Reaper assassinate her. Couldn’t have anybody else do it, now could-

He was bleeding.

Angela froze when her hand brushed against what she knew was a bullet wound. She had seen, worked on, and healed enough of them to know what they felt like. And it was only when she slowed her struggles that she could hear Reaper’s labored breathing and feel the faint tremor in his body.

Thoughts racing in a myriad of questions and concerns, Angela weakly patted along what parts of Reaper she could reach. She made a muffled, inquisitive noise, lightly tugging at his hand that was covering her mouth. Angela made sure to try and keep it from seeming that she was still resisting. Right now she just… She just wanted to see how badly Reaper was hurt.

“Don’t scream and I’ll let you go,” Reaper repeated, his voice low. “Nod if you understand.”

Angela nodded without hesitation. Slowly, Reaper removed his hand from over her mouth and let his arm slide from her midsection. Pivoting immediately, Angela had to clap her hands over her mouth to stifle the gasp that tried to escape. How Reaper was still managing to stand, she didn’t know. He was obviously badly wounded, and his clothes were bloodsoaked. Judging by the bullet wounds, it was his blood.

“What happened?” she finally managed to ask, her voice small and hushed.

“...I need your help,” Reaper replied, speaking in more of a rasp than a whisper. “I know we...didn’t exactly part on the best of terms, but-”

“Here, here,” Angela interrupted, darting forward.

Putting one of Reaper’s arms over her shoulders, Angela helped him limp into the medbay. She guided him to the nearest bed, and as soon as he was seated, Angela darted back to shut and lock the door. She didn’t like locking the medbay, as it kind of negated any easy access in case of emergencies. But she also knew what would happen if Reaper was discovered, and in the state he was currently in, he wouldn’t last long.

“Lay back,” Angela ordered, switching into her more clinical mindset. She grabbed a tray of medical supplies and tools, looking over them quickly. “What happened?”

“Turns out your people got smart,” Reaper replied with a hoarse, humorless chuckle. “They figured out a way to...stop my cells from decaying and regenerating. Wasn’t too much of a concern...until they started shooting at me.”

“It looks like their aim was halfway decent, too,” Angela commented as she prepped an IV bag. She wasn’t sure if it would help flush whatever toxins were in Reaper’s bloodstream, but it was the best place to start.

Turning back to Reaper, wheeled over the tray of medical tools and IV stand. Upon hearing Reaper attempt to stifle a hoarse cough, Angela quickly fetched a small oxygen apparatus. She pulled over a chair to his bedside and gave him a pointed look.

“The mask is going to have to come off, you know.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m not going to have you hyperventilate, or worse, suffocate,” Angela retorted sternly. “You can either let me take that thing off, or I can strap you down and then remove it.”

Reaper stared up at her for a long moment. Then, with a growl of malcontent, he gave a short nod. One of the last things he had wanted was for Angela to see what had become of him. Maybe he should have just tried risking sneaking into the medical supplies on his own.

“Don’t blame me for the nightmares you have,” he grumbled.

Angela appeared to be unconcerned, and she wasted no time in carefully removing the mask. There was the slightest of trembles in her hands, but she set aside the mask and turned her attention back to Reaper. What she saw made her breath snag in her throat, and this time Angela wasn’t able to stifle her quiet gasp.

She had seen victims that had been caught up in bomb explosions, and Gabriel’s injuries were no different. What _was_ different, though, was how they had tried to heal. Either side of his face was missing enough flesh that she could see glimpses of his back teeth, though the gaping holes were hardly uniform. His nose was completely missing, as it seemed the cartilage couldn’t regenerate. Most unnerving, though, was that his eyes appeared to have suffered some of the worst. It looked as though they had once been completely bloodshot, but the blood had remained and darkened. The whites of his eyes were practically black, and the irises had taken on an unsettlingly reddish brown hue.

“Gabriel?” Angela asked softly.

“I warned you,” Gabriel muttered with a smirk.

For a moment, Angela didn’t know what to do. Part of her was horrified to see what had happened to the man she’d fallen in love with so many years ago, and the other part was practically demanding she try to fix the damage. But she knew that was pointless. It had been too long and that was a secondary concern right now.

Dragging herself out of her thoughts and to the task at hand, Angela smiled faintly and shook her head. She began hooking up an oxygen mask, casting a quick glance over her shoulder to one of the medbay windows. It was, fortunately, distorted so as to provide privacy to the patients, but Angela couldn’t help but feel a little paranoid given the circumstances.

“It’s not that bad,” she said quietly.

“Don’t lie to me. I saw that look.” Gabriel glanced away. “I heard that gasp.”

“Well, maybe it wasn’t how you look,” Angela countered. She gently clasped a hand on the side of Gabriel’s face, but paused when he seemed to recoil. After a moment, though, he relaxed, and she leaned forward to carefully fit the mask over his face. “Maybe it was that I didn’t want to think of the pain that you must have been in when that happened.”

“Huh… You wouldn’t be wrong if you guessed a lot.”

Angela gave Gabriel a concerned look, but wordlessly finished securing the mask. Once that was done she set up the IV, pulling off his dirt and blood streaked glove before cleaning the injection spot. She held up the needle, making sure that the liquid was flowing, before looking back to Gabriel. She couldn’t help but notice that his dark hair was terribly unkempt, and both it and his beard had started to grey.

“This might sting.”

“I think I’ll manage.”

“At least your sense of humor seems to be healthy,” Angela murmured, carefully sliding the needle in. She taped it down before looking over to the bullet wounds. “Now for those.”

“You can just leave them, you know,” Gabriel muttered, feeling a little odd wearing the oxygen mask. “So long as that IV gets rid of whatever they hit me with, I-”

“I don’t care if you can heal them on your own,” Angela interrupted firmly. “I’m not taking any chances.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and chuckled, but it only had the slightest trace of humor.

“You’re the doctor,” he replied, relaxing back against the bed. “Good to see that your devotion to the sickly and injured hasn’t changed.”

“I wasn’t about to turn you away.” Angela unbuckled the front of his coat before carefully unzipping the thick shirt underneath. She inwardly winced at the sight of his bloodstained, badly scarred torso, but began tenderly cleaning around the seemingly worst one. “Do you know how many times they shot you?”

“Five.” Gabriel hissed lightly at the sting of antiseptic, but managed to compose himself shortly after. “Kind of caught me by surprise, if you couldn’t tell.”

“You’re lucky that they didn’t hit any higher.”

“You’d be having a much less eventful night if they had,” Gabriel sneered.

“Don’t say that as though that’s something I’d want.”

The sharpness in Angela’s voice surprised him, and after a moment, Gabriel’s expression softened. He looked up at the ceiling, trying not to focus on the feeling of Angela carefully extracting the first bullet. The pain had eased to a dull throb, but it was still an odd feeling.

“You still listen to music,” Gabriel commented after a few minutes, trying to ease the awkward silence between them.

“Helps me concentrate.”

“I...remember.” The admission had tumbled out too easily, and Gabriel tried to keep himself in check. He had no reason to believe that Angela was helping him out of anything but a devotion to her medical profession. “It’s what cued me into the fact that you were here.”

“Lucky for you I had it playing.”

“Need me to shut up?”

“No,” Angela replied softly, looking up after having bandaged up the first, and worst, bullet wound. She managed a half smile. “Was just making sure I got you all patched up.”

“I have complete faith in your abilities, Doc.”

“I would hope so,” Angela said with a faint giggle.

Unable to help but smile a little at the sound of her laughter, Gabriel turned his gaze back up to the ceiling. After a moment, though, his attention drifted back to Angela. Despite the state he was in, and the situation they were both in, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even working she still managed to look so beautiful and...pristine.

The complete antithesis to him.

The somber thought made Gabriel glance away again. This time he looked over to the small computer that was playing the music. As he had guessed, and judging by what he could make out on the screen, Angela had been writing on something before his arrival. He also couldn’t help but notice the lack of any real personal effects. Not even a couple of photos.

“So...you seeing anybody?”

The question obviously caught Angela off guard, and she stopped mid-bandaging of the third bullet wound. She blinked up at Gabriel with a bewildered look, which he returned with an expectant one. After a moment, Angela shook her head and got back to work.

“No, I’m not.” Angela frowned and looked back up at Gabriel. “What kind of question is that, anyways?”

“Just trying to make a bit of small talk, Ang.” When the nickname slipped out, it was Gabriel’s turn to freeze. He cleared his throat and looked back up at the ceiling. Already he could start to feel his wounds trying to start back up the healing process. “Feels like whatever’s in that IV is working.”

“Is it?” Angela asked, perking up. She then realized she hadn’t finished removing the last of the bullets, and quickly turned her attention back to Gabriel’s injuries. “I need to work quickly, then.”

“I wouldn’t hold it against you if you stopped now.”

“That’s not happening.”

Recognizing the stern tone in Angela’s voice, Gabriel chuckled weakly and relaxed back against the bedding. He knew that tone. That was the ‘do not argue with Dr. Ziegler’ tone. Years ago, he’d made the mistake of trying to argue with that tone, and she’d put him in his place without a second’s hesitation. And as much as Gabriel may have complained about it, he’d also found it rather attractive. He’d just never admitted that to Angela.

“Whatever you say, Doc.”

Making a short noise of affirmation, Angela focused on removing the last two bullets. They weren’t as bad, and the wounds themselves were relatively shallow. It was a good thing, too, because after she pulled out the last bullet, the wound began to slowly heal on its own. For a moment, Angela wondered if she should let the flesh knit back on its own. She quickly dismissed the thought, and put a bandage over the injury.

When she finished, Angela looked back up to Gabriel. She was alarmed to see that he was wincing and appeared to be in pain. Immediately leaning forward, Angela clasped her hand tenderly on the side of Gabriel’s scarred face.

“Gabe?” she queried in concern. “Gabe, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Gabriel snarled softly. He had been expecting the normal pain to return as soon as his body began trying to heal itself. That didn’t make said pain any less, though. “Just...normal. It’s normal.”

“Normal?” Angela repeated in mild disbelief.

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

It was then that Gabriel realized Angela was slowly and very gently combing back his hair. The action was surprisingly soothing, and Gabriel cautiously leaned into the touch. Angela noticed, and she smiled down at him before gently caressing the side of his face. She was mindful of his scars, and took care not to linger on them. Instead, her delicate fingertips traced along his features, and Gabriel allowed himself a small sigh of contentment.

“I tried to find you,” Angela admitted softly. “I searched for months.”

Gabriel’s eyes snapped open and he stared at Angela for a long moment. He propped himself up on his elbows, mindful of the IV. Worrying she may have overstepped, Angela withdrew her hand slightly.

“Why would you do that?” Gabriel demanded quietly. He had though he, and whoever had been left of Blackwatch, had been written off and dismissed after the fall. The idea that anyone, even Angela, looked for him was a completely foreign one.

“Wh-why would I do that? Because I loved you, that’s why!” Angela cried, her emotions finally breaking through now that she had tended to Gabriel’s injuries. “Blackwatch or not, you mattered to me, Gabriel! I thought you were dead! But when there was no body, I...I couldn’t just give up on the hope that you’d lived.”

“You should have.,” Gabriel replied bitterly. “The higher ups wanted to get rid of me long before everything went to Hell. The explosions, and what happened to me, just made things easier for them.”

“Is that why you joined Talon?”

“I’ve got more than one reason for joining Talon,” Gabriel answered, looking over at his mask. He sighed heavily and sat up slowly with a grimace. “Well, this has been a fun reunion, but it sounds like I’ve overstayed my welcome. Thanks for the help, in any case.”

Angela started a bit when Gabriel tried to move, and she reflexively set her hands on his shoulders to stop him. He glared up at her, but when she didn’t move, neither did he. Instead, he reached up and gently grasped her wrist to move her away.

“Gabriel, please…”

His expression softened a little and Gabriel turned his gaze back up to Angela’s. He studied her for a moment, not missing the imploring look she was giving him. Though it was more than a little frustrating, Gabriel also found some bit of relief in the fact he knew he wasn’t going to be able to deny her.

So, with a heavy sigh, Gabriel guided Angela’s hand to rest back on his shoulder as he relaxed back onto his elbows. She smiled softly at him, and then, without hesitation, leaned forward to hug him close. She buried her face against the side of his neck, clutching gently at his back. Gabriel made a short grunt of surprise, not entirely sure how to react. Years of solitude and refusing to ever get personally attached again had done their work.

And then Gabriel felt Angela tremble and sniffle softly.

“Angela,” he whispered, trying to make his tone as comforting as he could manage. He reached up and gently rubbed the blonde woman’s back, holding her to him. “...hey, come on. I finally get to see you again. Don’t want to see tears.”

“Sorry,” Angela murmured, her voice muffled.

“So am I.” Gabriel sighed again and held Angela a little closer. He cautiously nuzzled the side of her head, frowning when the oxygen mask got in the way. Grumbling, Gabriel tugged the mask off, setting it aside. Realizing what he’d done, Angela looked up at him and then over at the oxygen mask.

“What are you…?”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel assured. He caressed the side of Angela’s face and used his thumb to carefully wipe away a stray tear that had managed to slip down her face.. He mustered up a weak smile, trying to ignore how odd it felt to genuinely do so after so many years. “...it’s okay, _cariño_.”

Smiling at the word, Angela nuzzled her face against Gabriel’s palm. She reached up and held her hand against his, not wanting to let go. After so many years, he was finally back, even if Angela knew it was only for a short while.

“I always liked it when you called me that,” she commented with a smile.

“Thought it was pretty fitting. You remember what it means?”

Angela nodded and then answered, “Darling.”

“Mmhm.” Gabriel gently hooked his index finger under Angela’s chin, tilting her gaze up to his and smiling at her. “Knew you’d remember.”

Angela returned the smile...then leaned forward and kissed Gabriel tenderly. For a moment, the dark-eyed man froze, and his heart felt like it skipped a beat. Then his senses returned to him and he gently deepened the kiss. He reached up and clasped his faintly trembling hand against Angela’s face, letting himself enjoy the moment.

Reluctantly, Angela pulled back, and rested her forehead against Gabriel’s.

“You’re going to have to leave, aren’t you?” she whispered.

“Yeah. I can’t afford to get caught, and you know that you can’t afford to get caught with me,” Gabriel replied, hating the words as he spoke them. Then a faint, but confident, smile crossed his features. “Pretty sure I can afford to stay here a little bit longer with you.”

“Thank you, Gabe,” Angela sighed softly.

With that, and not wanting to waste any of the short, precious time that this unexpected reunion had given them, Angela leaned up and kissed Gabriel deeply.


End file.
